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2035 Olympics Opening Ceremony
The Swordfish - Crescent Island The Swordfish, a state of the art recreational cruiser designed for the 2033 Olympics, was purchased by the United Nations for use on Guardian City to provide the interstellar port town with a galactic friendly center for entertainment and events on Earth. The Swordfish is an enormous, brightly polished ship that is more reminiscent of a manta ray than its namesake, if it weren't for the long jagged snout of the ship. Two long sweeping arms balloon outward to corral both potential sides outside of matches. The center has a conjoined bridge area atop with plenty of visible windows, including an enormous skylight to show the nova spiral outside. Beneath the bridge is a thick, potbellied structure where the arena itself is housed. Below the arena, the entire surface has been compartmentalized and reinforced into the ground, making the vessel a more or less permanent addition to the city. This is what they call A BIG DAY. For the past two years, the United Nations has been towards the moment they unveiled one small step towards humanity's future, and what better way to do it than the opening ceremony of the 2035 Olympic Games. Hosted here, in Guardian City. The former Decepticon Island (now named Crescent Island) had been transformed over the past two years into the center of Earth's entry to the Galactic Community, and the crowds gathered here at the base of the Swordfish, recently purchased by the United Nations for the purpose of hosting the games, are now surrounded by the superscrapers and spires of the EDC's city base (not a cityformer, settle down!). A formation of EDC Starhawks fly overhead, twisting in the sky with a squad of visiting Kwarch SKYSLIME Fighters. At the base of the Swordfish, a large dais has been set up for VIPs and world leaders. Blades is in the background, possibly miscoloured. If anyone somehow is swept out to sea and starts drowning, Blades can rescue that person! Or he can fight any bears that need fighting. That's what he does. Eddie Garcia is sitting on a wall, drinking a Future Pepsi and watching the skies, a little frustrated that he's not currently in the air with the rest of his unit. "Juemadre, Davis, get your head out of the clouds and back on his wing." He takes a sip, looking for every excuse he can to complain about how they 'weren't as good without him' later. Rodimus Prime has been here for a while, naturally, as stalwart allies to the EDC, their main representative is on hand. Currently, he's off to the side in a discussion with Commander Faireborn, no doubt in reference to the action on Nebulos the past few days. Rodimus is kneeling to help keep the scale of the conversation to something more private. His assistant Datapop is hurriedly going over notes, having tried for the third time to get Rodimus' attention. "Sir! With all due respect, I really must insist that you look over these notes for your speech. The ceremonies are starting, you simply cannot overlook this any further! I've written all the large words phonetically and avoided using archaic terminology...for your listeners." That catches the Hotrod's attention, he raises a finger towards Marissa politely, "Pardon..." Then the Prime turns his bulk towards Datapop. He silently regards his assistant, perhaps judging Datapop's rather acerbic words. His assistent squeaks, "Ah, Just trying to get your attention, sir." He waves the paperwork, leaving holotrails behind it as he does. Rodimus questions with a puzzled look, "I have a speech?" Datapop crinkles his hands together, "Well, I just *assumed*...." Cyclonus stands on an observatory built on the roof of one of the larger buildings between the Guardian Spaceport and the Swordfish. Having refused to join the dais as the ceremony's representative from the Cybertronian Empire, Galvatron's rght hand mutters a quiet prayer, granting him the strength to not raze this pathetic city from the ground. "We stand where Trypticon once stood, as a symbol of strength on this disgusting planet. Heretical. Shameful," he announces to no one in particular. One of his horns still broken in half from an encounter with Overlord, Cyclonus is a little sensitive about anything that exposes weakness in the Empire lately. Not far from Rodimus is his regular fishing partner Daniel. Smirking as he hears poor Datapop (who can't fish to save his life) almost squealing in frustration, Daniel walks the very short distance over to Prime and his assistant. "Of course Rodimus has a speech. No doubt very moving and uplifting for all. Showing how the Autobots support their human allies in hosting the Olympics and showing the universe how amazing we can handle such a massive event." Daniel grins at Rodimus, "And presumably suggesting fishing should be added as an Olympic sport." Because Daniel would love to see Galvatron beaten at fishing. Or anything for that matter. Aramasu Hikage is standing with some of his fellow EDCer wearing his pristine white tailored suit/uniform. He seems to be having a bit of fun but something is off...a little bit. Despite the events of last night, Zipline is here! Like she'd miss something as awesome as the olympics starting! Okay, so she almost missed it. The little tape-bot hurredly darts through the feet of the many cybertronians gathered here, even around some of the humans and other aliens. "Look out, coming through! Out of the way!" Or at least, she tries to. Even at her little size, Zipline runs into a bit of a block as the distance between legs and people become a bit shorter, and people are less willing to move. "How am I supposed to see anything!?" Arcee glances around blankly for a moment, then nearly tramples a few people on her way to...Rodimus, it looks like? No, wait, it's Daniel. She's definitely making a beeline for Daniel. It seems, somehow, that Airlift is always on assignment during the Olympics. Despite the Reaver's rather unique and storied history within the Empire, especially in the last several decades, he has not managed to represent the Empire even once. He always seems to 'just miss the cut off'..so it is that he arrives quite happily for this Olympics, the first during which he'd forwarded his entry information in good order. Unknown to him (maybe) with Cyclonus refusing his position upon the dais, it has left a vacuum of sorts, and when Airlift arrives and is pointed in that direction he simply nods, "Of course I will stand for the Cybertronian Empire," he says as though it is a matter of standard practice for him. So he is lead instead of Cyclonus to a position upon the dais, his Unicronian form shined and pristine, black armored proudly bearing the Decepticon Emblem to it's place among the various dignitaries and significants.. Marissa Faireborn politely listens to Rodimus, and gives Daniel Witwicky a glance as he approaches. "Lieutenant," she states firmly, both a reminder and a greeting. She had never really enjoyed the status the Autobots gave the Witwickys over herself and her generals. No matter how long James Bailey and Kenya ordered the father/son team around, it rarely seemed to stick in the eyes of the Cybertronians. Frustrating. She looks up at the newly polished Airlift, and smiles coldly. "I hope you're enjoying your stay, Decepticon. Best of luck to you in the games." Blast Off is here, looking rather unimpressed. He doesn't like this planet, and he doesn't like organics in general, so any extra time he is forced to spend on Earth is time NOT well spent, as far as he's concerned. But this is the Olympics, and the truce has begun again... so now is the time to behave as a gentlemech. And so Blast Off stands with Airlift and the VIPs along the dias... he *did* win 3 gold medals here last year, after all! And the egotistical shuttleformer isn't going to pass up an opportunity to look *important*. He is polished to look his best, as well, his brown, purple, and gray glinting in the light. Crusade is twitching with excitement and looking all around him - so many people! The crowd has him a little uncomfortable, but the anticipation of the Olympics opening ceremony outweighs any nervousness he might feel. He happens to be somewhat close to Zipline, as luck might have it. Murmuring apologies to his neighbors, he squeezes through the crowd towards the tape-bot and kneels down, cupping his hands together for her to climb into. Rodimus Prime turns his attention to Daniel, his face breaking into a soft smile, those agelines vanishing, if but for a bit. "Daniel!" A hand shifts to his knee as he regards his friend. "You know me too well." He abruptly adds, "About the fishing, not the speech at least." Datapop coughs, having just snuck up to his side, and slipped the cliffjumpernotes into his hand, then toddles off for a bit. "I'll have to tell you about the other sweep. Tried my luck out in the Mithril Sea, and ended up landing Piranacon." He manages a brief laugh, then says in a softer tone, nodding to Arcee as she arrives as well, "How've you been?" The absurdly high budgeted production begins with a dramatic change of lighting on the crowd and the dais. Music swells up over the loudspeakers, played by the United Nations Orchestra in the pit around the Dais. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BSf5tx4e_PA A woman's voice speaks over the music. Many will recognize the voice of Astoria Carlton-Ritz, CEO of Hybrid Universal, and as the namesake of the mountain on the island. "Welcome to the 2035 Olympics, hosted here on Guardian City with the blessing the Galactic Assembly, and sponsored by Hybrid Universal." The lighting shifts to the rooftop of one of the hangars near the Swordfish. Tons of colored smoke is pouring off of it. "And now, here to open the ceremony, please welcome the most iconic figure in Earth rock n roll" A very familiar guitar riff about jungles and being welcomed to them hits. "Hybrid Universal's own cybernetically enhanced spokesrocker, Axl Rose!" The smoke clears, and bionic Axl Rose launches into Welcome to The Jungle, backed by a Guns N Roses of various different species, including a Kwarch Slug rocker in a Slash hat. Daniel's two favorite Bots in the same place, and not long after speaking with Bumblebee, if it weren't for the opening ceremony stuff this would be an amazingly good day. Daniels smirk turns to a smile as the pink Autobot approaches, "Hey Arcee." He doesn't need to repeat Rodimus' question about how she is. Eddie Garcia sips his drink. "Oh hey, Guns N Roses!" He taps Crusade, who he finds himself standing next to. "These guys are awesome!" Just when Zipline was about ready to start biting some ankles, Crusade crouches down next to her. She grins fangily at him. "Thanks! Sucks being small sometimes." She quickly jumps up on the offered hands, barely about the size of a house-cat to him. If that, even. Ears flick up at the music. "Sweet, at least they've got rocking music." Blades squints at Astoria, perhaps unconvinced that she has actually been successfully de-evilled. He fidgets and looks out at the ocean. Speeches, music... eh. Arcee makes...some kind of a greeting/gesture to Rod, but c'mon, that's not why she's here! "Oh, wow, I've missed you so much!! How've you been??" Yeah, she's fighting the urge to pick him up like she used to do when he was a kid. It's a struggle for her, though. "It sounds interesting," Crusade says, raising his voice so that he can be heard above the music. He straightens, lifting Zipline up so that she can see over the crowd. Bionic Axl struts across the stage. "Welcome to the jungle, We've got family fun! Hybrid has got everything you want, Honey, bring all your chums! We are the people that can find Whatever safety officers you may need! If you got the money, honey, please wash your hands to prevent disease! In the jungle, welcome to the jungle! Let's all hahahahahahahahahahahave safe fun, fun! Oooooooh, I want to watch you take the time to apply an appropriate bandage provided by Hybrid Universal if you bleed!" Eddie Garcia frowns. "They...well, they've gotten a little soft. Technologically supported old age will do that." He sips. "I guess." Ahhh the opening ceremony speeches and music and the like. Every Olympics it's the same story, if a different tune. The fact that it's Earth culture on display just means that Airlift has to pay even less attention to it than normal. After all, Earth is hardly the Reaver's favorite place. The fact that Blast Off has joined him to represent the Empire goes without comment from the Unicronian, merely a glance and a lifted optical ridge. Then his optics are seeking out familiar, if unfriendly, faces and forms in the crowd. Arcee and Rodimus speaking to a human germ draws a glance, before his gaze passes on. He does spare a glance towards stage as he muses, "They should slap corporate sponsorship stickers on that creature.." When brought high enough, Zipline hops from Crusade's hands and onto his shoulder. She can steady herself better that way. Her tail flicks and she frowns a little at the music. "Thaat... doesn't sound right." Cyclonus watches Airlift and Blast Off on the dais, still as a statue. A series of tough looking bouncers, of various species, enter in suits and sunglasses, keeping their eyes open. In the middle of the throng of people, one bodyguard holds a small box. Another bouncer draws up a small holographic device, attaching it to the box. The apparatus shimmers, and then a hologram appears of a tiny, TINY figure. Those in the know might recognize Kreezy, the arms merchant of Nitrous Armaments. The figure is enlarged to about humanoid size, and while a hologram, he starts to attempt interaction with people a full scale larger than him, "Hello, hello, yes good to see you all, good to see you. Kreezy-311, at your service, do call me for all of your weaponry needs." Kreezy-311 snaps his fingers, a bodyguard is instantly there, his hand in his suit for a moment, then draws quickly...a business card. Blast Off winces at the rock music, turning his audio receptors down just a bit so as not to have to deal with such uncultured cacaphony! Kaon Opera, this is NOT. By the time this is over, maybe he can go home and listen to recordings of a full opera production or two just to remind himself what *real* music sounds like. He suppresses a bored sigh (he *is* at least attempting to remain polite) and impassively looks around, scanning the crowd. Airlift's expression, if noted at all, is ignored. He does comment to the Reaver, however, whispering, "Well, this isn't exactly the height of sophistication after all..." Kreezy and Co. only further emphasize that fact..... Crusade has a feline on his shoulder! He's okay with this. "It does seem a little... off," Crusade agrees, glancing sidelong at Zipline. "Can you balance okay up there? I don't want to drop you." And who is that in the center of a huge throng of figures with the Spanish accent and the ability to charm the washers off of any robot? The figure speaks up, apparently telling a story, "And so upon losing the duel, I was fated to die, yes, but for a prize such as the hand of Emerii the Trifocaled, it was a worthy attempt. I had already charmed the executioner with the dance of my people, he was so impressed that he chose to give up his own posh estate for my final few hours, and took my place in the cell..." The crowd parts for a moment, revealing a mantis looking alien, Mostly grey-brown in color, with four arms, he gesticulates to the crowd about his daring adventures. One arm holds his drink...effortlessly. Nobody knows how one can do such a simple chore with such grace. Once the best possible version of Welcome To The Jungle subsides, Astoria's voice picks back up over the loud speakers. "Ladies and gentlemen, robotics and fluids, please give it up one more time for Hybrid Universal's own Guns N Roses! And now, please join us all in welcoming to the stage, the Secretary General of our United Nations, Amanda Fowler. An imposing woman with short hair approaches the center of the dais to a sea of applause. She allows a smile before raising her hands to signal for her welcome to die down. The leader of Earth's governments. It's rare that a human looks as imposing as a Prime, but in this case, it's quite accurate. Glad he isn't swept off his feet, Daniel replies to Arcee, "I've been good. Done more exploring of the galaxy for a bit. Thought about time I spent some time kicking Galvatron and his cronies off of Earth." "I'm good!" Zipline grins alongside at Crusade. Her tail flicks and sways, keeping her balance despite the bigger bot's movements. "I've got a good-" Abruptly, a paw slips on Crusade's armor. She doesn't tumble off, but instead faceplants right into his shoulder. "... Balance. Y'know, maybe I'll just lie down here." Rodimus Prime silently regards Cyber Axl for a few moments, obviously more interested in reuniting with an old friend. However, Secretary General Fowler does draw his attention, and he quietly shifts position to listen to her. For a brief moment, he muses softly, "I knew of an Agent Fowler back in the day..." He taps his chin, pondering possible relations. For now, its his time to be quiet. Datapop wrings his hands from afar, sending constant short range radio messages, <> If Rodimus hears it, he sure isn't responding... <'Decepticon'> Rumble says, "What kinda was that openin' song for the Olympics?? I'll bet the Autobots paid them shanix to play that crap!" <'Decepticon'> Airlift says, "I doubt it, even the Autobots have better taste than that. I assume it is what passes for music these days amongst the human germs." <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "Well, they *are* organic, after all." <'Decepticon'> Blaster says, "Ya' mammabot's organic." Crusade's doorwings flare in alarm as Zipline's paw slips, and he quickly reaches a hand up to steady her. "Are you sure? You almost fell! I don't mind - er, I don't mind holding you up so you can see." He winces inwardly, hoping that he didn't sound too awkward or patronizing. <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "Where is SOUNDWAVE?" <'Decepticon'> Blaster says, "SOUNDWAVE IS RIGHT HERE. BEING LAME. AS USUAL. OPERATION: BLASTER ROCKS." <'Decepticon'> Contrail says, "Quick, Blast Off, summon the classical music to shoo this miscreant away." Arcee settles down as the Sec-Gen takes the stage. She just wants to keep talking to Daniel, because she's so delighted to see him again! But for now, she just sits there restlessly, looking kind of like a shaken can of soda. There is a Boombox here. It has been here this entire time. Nobody noticed. Because it is a Boombox. Suckas. <'Decepticon'> Rumble says, "Hey! You! You better shut your , ya freak! Or I'll come you an' all your lame-o tapes!" "Welcome... to Guardian City." Secretary General Fowler allows a single sentence to be met with more applause, mostly from the people of Earth. Most are seeing the city for the first time. "When the Autobots and Decepticons first made their presence known on our planet, I was a child. I dared not dream of a day when humanity not only made a group from a planet called Cybertron our allies," she nods to Rodimus, "but also our friends." She takes a moment, looking across the sea of audience. "I did not dream of a day when we would not only fight a war in the stars, but fight it on our own terms. A day when the peoples of our galaxy, bound by friendship and common cause, would come to our planet as friends and partners working towards a brighter tomorrow. Today, we gratefully and humbly take our place among you all, our newfound friends and partners of the Galactic Council. Today, we take one small step towards our future." And then, a dark shadow falls across the island. <'Decepticon'> Blast Off says, "Orrr.... Rumble can handle it. I think he's on about the same level as this Autofool. No, wait, my aplogies Rumble, you are FAR more sophisticated than he." <'Decepticon'> Contrail says, "Rumble, continue swearing." <'Decepticon'> Blaster says, "I'll handle this, Rumble! Check it!" <'Decepticon'> Blaster | http://youtu.be/pFD9lW9PGM4 <'Decepticon'> Airlift says, "Someone triangulate that signal source, if he's at the opening ceremony I'll go step on the annoying little antique." <'Decepticon'> Blaster says, "Triangulate DEEZ HERTZ." <'Decepticon'> Blaster says, "SUCKAAAAAAAAAA!" Rodimus Prime quietly applauds, a gentle smile on his face. Surprisingly, two giant mitts of metal coming together sounds remarkably like stock sound effects of standard applause. He stands back up, careful of course to watch his step, ensuring he's visible enough to be seen approving, but off to the side enough not to draw much attention to himself. Politics, he thought wryly, was always going to be a lot harder than punching uppity Decepticons in the faceplate. Then again, he reflected, which had the potential to do more good? A massive starship, armed to the teeth and bearing the colors and brand of the EDC breaks through the clouds, a blast of displaced air pushing across the island. The area is bathed in light as an immense hangar opens. The squadron of EDC Starhawks that had been flying formation throughout the day swing low over the island and dip their wings to the dais before rocketing towards the ship, disappearing into the entrance. EDCCS Lyonesse has arrived. Somewhere on the island, a lone man starts a slow clap. Airlift looks up at the shadow falling across everything, the EDC's new super star destroyer presumably, his eyes raking down the form with an amused look on his face..and amidst the moment of that quiet as the slow clap starts he muses, quite audibly to anyone nearby or wherever his voice might carry, "What a hunk of space junk..I wonder if that thing can even jump to faster than light without shaking apart completely." Yep. That guy. Aramasu Hikage moves through the crowd like a ghost despite his white attire. He moves towards Marissa but holds back a bit behind her and keeps watch. Just because there is a truce does not mean stuff does not happen during the Olympics. He knows first hand. Listening to the speech, Daniel can't help on seeing the Destroyed class ship to think to himself that it is a shame for the truce around the Olympics, as he is pretty sure that ship could make short work of the one eared bunny that's standing away from the VIP area. Oh well, hopefully during the Olympics he'll get enough of a smack around to make up for it. He politely applauds along with everyone else. Unlike Rodimus, Daniel doesn't have to bother being off to the side at all. Blast Off continues scanning the crowd, looking aloof and slightly bored... No culture or class to be found here, obviously. When who should appear but.... Bibadibbera?!? The Combaticon stops, optics betraying some of his surprise. He stares at the alien, who he once met and... well, that's top secret. He glances around, wondering if the Decepticons have noticed him, then looks back. He isn't going to go greet him like a friend, but.... he'd secretly like to. He's so... so... well, INTERESTING! And suave. Blast Off subconsciously shifts a little, almost trying to mimic Bibadibbera's relaxed pose before realizing what he's doing and straightening up again. And then.... another starship comes upon the scene? But this starship is not sentient, nor being polite, it appears. Blast Off's reverie is interrupted as he looks up at this new intruder. Then looks about for the source of that clap, his trigger finger suddenly itchy. Kreezy-311 stares blankly forward for a moment, his amorphous figure turns around, as his bodyguards are staring upwards. "Turn the camera upward, I can't see it! What's happening?" One guard gently shifts a handheld camera. Without raising his eyes, Kreezy-311 says softly, "oh...." From behind him, a similar figure suddenly emerges, "We could've built one of those for half the cost. We still can, this is a lathium mine in the making!" Another figure pops up, "Point of order! The Assembly must vote on restrictions on the production of warship-class starships, as pertaining to new legislation." "I've got a new bill here to submit we assassinate Bibadibbera at this very moment." "Point of Order again! We are under strict confidence to not let..." And so the holographic argument between what rapidly becomes a plethora of microorganisms is cut off a bit early, by a rather discreet guard. Cyclonus would laugh at the EDC's attempt to rival the Empire's armada if he had a sense of humor. But Cyclonus has no sense of humor. Cyclonus only has religion. "Terran Overlord, puppet leaders of the Galaxy. I am Cyclonus, arbiter of the Terrible Calamity and Chaotic Savior Lord Galvatron of the Cybertronian Empire. Behold: On your dais, two of our Faith's boldest. They will, as they have in years past, rend your champions to dust and take your worthless baubles as prizes to offer up to Our Dark Master." He makes a fist and gestures with it dramatically. "We do this in preparation of the days that we are all One Empire united by faith, and that the trivial shallowing of the timeless honor of mortal battle arts shall once again be about true survival of the Fittest, and not for guns, roses, or..." The flicker of a smile? "Showing off new toys." He gives a nod to his representatives on the dais, and transforms, blasting into orbit. Cyclonus transforms into his feared UNICRONIAN STARKILLER MODE. Combat: Unicronian Starkiller begins retreating, leaving himself vulnerable to parting shots from EDCCS Lyonesse Bibadibbera gives an approving look to the enormous craft, now holding two glasses at once. He raises one to the craft, "Perhaps not as elegant as I'd have crafted, but not without its own charm." One of the Human aides to the UN is at his side, quite out of position. He smoothly looks over towards her, "Do ensure that your higher ups know I will be happy to be commissioned for a second craft, when you need the time." His mandibles click...charmingly... If Zipline had a tongue, she'd be sticking it out at Crusade. She somehow makes a raspberry sound through her coolant system anyway. "I'm fine, dude. Sheesh, chill your coolant." She doesn't seem to take offense by it, at least. The little tape-bot gets back up on all fours, but with her tail lashing and flicking, seems to be a good deal more steady. And just in time to watch the new aircraft appear overhead. "... Gnarly awesome!" Airlift elbows Blast Off, "Oh hey, Cyclonus was here..wonder what happened to his ear.." he remarks to Blast Off conversationally. Blades remarks aloud, "I wonder if we can find Cyclonus's horn on eBay yet." Yet. He assumes it's going to happen. Totally inevitable. Daniel Witwicky pays utterly no attention to Cyclonus. He'd have been far more impresses if the Spanish Inquisition had appeared. Crusade grins awkwardly. "Chilling my coolant, ma'am." He looks up as the huge ship makes its appearance, optic ridges rising. "Is that thing on our side? I hope it's on our side." Secretary General Waller waves, allowing the first ship of the EDC's own starfleet to conclude her speech better than any words could. She eyes Cyclonus coldly, and then gestures to Rodimus Prime. The stage was his. Blast Off lets out a small huff at being elbowed, not a fan of such contact. But he remarks after a moment, "No idea. Perhaps he is going for an asymmetrical look? I hear it's all the fashion on Galaxius Nine..." Eddie Garcia sighs, looking almost mournfully up at Zipline and Crusade. "I would have made that look so, so much cooler. Career note for both of you, don't mouth of to an Admiral when they tell you you're losing your squad leader spot to an ex-con." Arcee watches Cyclonus cautiously, but otherwise makes no particular response. She remains seated right beside Daniel as Rodimus goes to speak. Crusade peers down at Eddie, keeping his occupied shoulder as steady as he can - he doesn't want to dislodge Zipline from her perch. "Ex-Con...?" he echoes curiously. Naturally, he's thinking "con" as in "Decepticon". "I didn't know they let them lead squads. By the way, sir, would you like a better view?" Rodimus Prime puts his hands on his hips as Cyclonus goes all prophet-to-the-cause on the room. Considering the vacancy left by Cyclonus' rather...unconventional speech, Rodimus takes it upon himself to step onto the dais finally, after being admitted through the EDC line, of course. He silently glances up at the contrails left by Cyclonus' departure. Datapop creeps in front of the dais, trying to stay low beneath photo viewing. "That was local funkiller Cyclonus. As you have no doubt noticed, he is exceptionally good at running away." Mild laughter helps ruin the dramatic moment the Unicronian had established. Datapop leans up, "Pssst!" Rodimus pauses, "Pardon me one moment." He kneels down, "What could you possibly want now, Datapop, I'm on stage." Datapop hisses, "Your red, you need to turn it down." "What?" "Your red, you're going to give a speech, people don't like a lot of red in speech!" ""Wait you mean like this?" "No, all of it, no red! They don't want to see a lot of red!" Rodimus masks a frustrated scowl, "Fine fine..." He stands back up, with a single cough. "Apologies all." The Prime clasps his hands behind his back, properly for the moment. "Most of you know me, but for our guests, I am Rodimus Prime, leader of the Autobot forces." He glances down at the holonotes in his hand, "And I was asked to step up and give my greetings and..." He frowns. Rodimus drops the hologram text in his hand, going off script. "I can do that. That's easy." His tone shifts from casual warmth to something more firm. "I could tell you all about our history here, how we met the humans of Earth and how we've worked together to become something greater." He gives a light shrug, acknowledging the Lyonesse. "But we're past that point, talking about how we've helped the EDC, because they've done remarkable things on their own, without a single Autobot on scene." His hands fold together, as he considers his next words. "We're beyond guiding them. We've been beyond that for years now. And just a cycle ago, I saw something happen. Something..." Prime fumbles for the proper word, "Something eye-opening. Without going into details, I saw a planet in danger. Several of the strongest Autobots in active duty strode forth to deal with the situation. When all the chips were down though, we were all helpless. It was in that moment..that the EDC stepped in and saved a planet. I have seen the strength of humans, of Nebulons, of their sapient forces, battling a war they never asked for, and rising to meet that challenge. I have know the companionship of the best friends I could ever ask for. I've seen an EDC asset choose what is right over what is ordered, saving my home planet, and then last sweep, I saw the EDC save another planet. And the thought occurs to me that I am tired. I am tired of the Earth's forces being called allies of the Autobots. So let me make something clear to the galaxy. We are THEIR allies, not the other way around. Humanity has come forward into the galaxy, and the galaxy is better for it." Silence hangs in the air for several moments, "Thank you. Enjoy the Olympics." With that, he steps off the dias. Blades grumbles, "But I like red." Zipline's optics flicker briefly in a blink. "Ma'am? The slag are you calling me ma'am for? Just call me Zipline!" She flashes Crusade a grin, before shrugging. "Uh, I guess. I mean, no one else is trying to blow it to slag, so it's got to be." Looking behind her, Zipline quirks a brow at Eddie. "In the dog house with the big guys, huh?" Daniel Witwicky stands to applaud Rodimus, rather hoping he won't be the only one. He makes a mental note to tell Rodimus it's more genuine with the red. With a little jump, Airlift seems to come back awake, looking around. "Unicron's beard..please tell me he's done droning on and on.." he demands of whoever around him is most likely to answer..which is probably the comatose Blast Off.. Airlift shakes his head as though to clear it of cobwebs as he tries to focus back in on events going on, apparently mind numbingly bored by now. "Ho w long until events begin?" Blast Off has been trying to remain polite, but he can't help but roll his optics a little as Rodimus Prime steps up and practically FAWNS all OVER disgusting organics. How revolting. He glances away, looking back over for Bibadibbera. Ok, so he's organic, too, but is TOTALLY DIFFERENT. Airlift has him glancing back again, and he gives a tiny shrug. He whispers, "No idea, but it should be soon. Unless this is a plot to /bore/ us to death..." "You jest about such things Blast Off," muses Airlift, "but during the fifth Jorgranixian uprising of Malleot Seven, the forces of the degenerate Jorgranixian movement actually employed a psychological warfare weapon that functioned by hyper accellerating the perceptional processes of a victim while at the same time not enabling their forms to accelerate at all. Indeed, their perceptions were moving at such increased speeds relative to their ability to interact with their surroundings that it was said twenty seconds seemed to last twenty solar years. The madness created by this seemingly frozen moment in fact drove the victims insane, more or less killing them with boredom.." Bibadibbera crosses his arms, neither approving or disapproving of the speech. The insectoid 'Most Interesting Sapient in the Galaxy' remains impassive on the entire scenario. Even his throng of onlookers have quieted down, some of them intent on displaying no real response either. Even that EDC staff sergeant he was persuading earlier... Rodimus Prime nods again to Daniel, returning to his previous spot near Arcee and him. He coughs again once, his hand over his faceplate...as if there was anything communicable possible "Might not have been what everyone wanted to hear..." He pauses, a smirk on his face, "But it is what needed said. Earth has somehow managed to excel despite the war coming here..." "It wasn't...uh...*bad*, but it didn't have --" Arcee begins to comment to Rodimus, then thinks better of it and just gives him an 'I'll tell you later' wave. Rodimus Prime actually frowns, "I thought it was pretty good." He puts a finger to his chin in thought, his frown fading almost instantly as he manages a tiny shrug as if to say 'What're they going to do about it?' Blast Off glances at Airlift, beginning to give him a small nod... which fades as the Reaver goes on. Twenty seconds stuck in a seemingly never-ending limbo? Twenty years? PFFFT. Try 4-5 millions years with your mind stuck in a box... all alone. Nothing to do. The loneliness, the boredom? Airlift has no idea what that's like. Very few do, except his fellow Combaticons... He glances uncomfortably off into the distance. Um. Well, it's a good thing he and his teammates dealt MUCH BETTER with that experience. Driven mad? Hardly!!! Ok, maybe Vortex. But everyone else is /just fiiiine. / Yep. Just fine. Blast Off starts picking at the ceramic tiles on his heat shields for no reason at all........ "Uh... yes, sounds /terrible/..." His tone is... hard to read as a wing elevon twitches and he gazes off into nothingness. Airlift is, in the vaguest of senses, not too far from the Autobots and overhears Rodimus. Having succeeded at his attempts to unsettle Blast Off, who will soon be his foe, his attention turns more towards the Autobots. The comment draws a derisive snort from Airlift as he looks over, "Surely the leader of the Autobots is not so uninformed as to think that they have 'excelled' as you put it despite the war. It is precisely because of the war that the Terrans have developed as quickly as they have. It is a well known fact that in times of warfare technology advances more rapidly. In addition, socio-political tensions are erased by the formation of alliances against a common danger." He then frowns as he sweeps his gaze across the EDC presence, "The human creatures should thank us for the advances to their society that we have brought about. "So they should be thanking you for looting their resources and killing their loved ones, is that what you're trying to say, you deluded puppet?" Arcee comments, giving Airlift a withering look. The Reaver doesn't miss a beat as he motions to Arcee, "See Prime, your little pink secretary there understands the truth of things. Maybe you should pass leadership to her, then perhaps she would be able to fill the vacuum left by Elita One's..err...accident." Looking toward the Reaver, Daniel remarks, "You know, our medical knowledge and technology was also advanced courtesy of encountering little pesky viruses. Much like them though, in the end, we'll erradicate you and you'll end up like such a faint memory in history that some will wonder if you were ever really that significant afterall." Blast Off is suddenly reminded of a discussion that he and Blurr once had- possibly right here at the Olympics. Oddly enough, they seemed to agree on some things... including that war can rapidly increase technology. He looks over disdainfully towards Arcee, crossing his arms. "He speaks the truth. War does have a cost, yes, but there is no denying it furthers the advancement of technology... which can HELP one protect one's "loved ones" and resources. Most species, including organic ones, *are* rather warlike at spark... so to deny any *reason* for that is to deny reality." So says the Master of Denial himself.... When Daniel speaks, he glowers over at the impudent creature. "Big words from such a small and primitive organism... Feel free to try, fleshling." Rodimus Prime had his back towards Airlift. The EDC presentations taking a short recess after the two passionate and utterly incompatible speeches. He turns towards the Unicronian, his gaze tilted enough to acknowledge Arcee's words. His own tone is surprisingly restrained. "And how much better could they have been without the raids? Without the murders? Without the Longest Night?" His fists tighten. He knows he's being taunted, but it's damn effective. Heat enters his voice, "And what you don't see, is that you're building your own nightmare. At the end of this....when your faction is finally ground to dust, it won't be the Autobots who did the task. It'll be them. They adapt, Airlift, faster than we ever have. They produce faster than we ever can, and they LEARN, Airlift....and they REMEMBER." He takes a step forward towards Airlift, looking down at him, "And they will remember all the pain you brought to their door. Maybe we'll all be swept up in whatever finally happens, but it will be the Humans who administer the final stroke on a very bloody, violent war. You'd do well to remember that." Arcee still looks angry, but apparently, she's decided it probably wouldn't be the best idea to shoot Airlift *here*. There's...probably going to be a better time for that, down the road somewhere. Oh, and Blast Off, too, both of them. But especially Airlift. She just has to keep in mind what's most important, and focus on that. She looks toward Rodimus and nods, then she smiles at Daniel's gutsy comments. There's only a snort of derision in response to Rodimus' passionate words from Airlift. "It's truly sad to see how far our foes have fallen since Optimus Prime was destroyed.." he says as he turns his back on Rodimus and begins to walk off. Oh sure, Rodimus can slag him senseless in .2 seconds, but that would also suit Airlift's goals as much as insulting him does. "That our once powerful foes now cower behind barely beyond primitive organics, hoping that the terrans will win the war for them since the Autobots have lost both will and ability to fight.." He shakes his head, "They may adapt..and learn..and remember and all those other things, but wait another fifty years and you have an entirely new batch of them to watch flailing against their fates ineffectively. The Empire does not need to even do anything to defeat humanity, though we will, we can simply sit back and watch your pet species die off like the short lived little insignificants that they are.." He lets his gaze drift down towards Daniel, "you really ought not become so attached Rodimus..Arcee..like all pets, that one will die very, very soon.." Rodimus Prime restrains a smirk, "Airlift, you know a bit about me. Not much, I mean, so let me fill you in on a few things. First and foremost, I'm not Optimus Prime. That means I'm not nearly as...forgiving as him, nor am I going to fight to the last, trying to SAVE any of you either. I run things differently. Secondly, I'm quite the fishermech." He jerks a thumb to Daniel, "He can attest. We've fished every ocean on this planet, as well as several other planets. The great Benzene Sea of Quarr, the Mithril Sea of home, and even once we tried airfishing atop the Glazed Pinnacle at Salidor P." His smile fades, "The point I am trying to make is that I know a baited hook when I see it, and taunting Arcee is NOT going to get the Olympics suspended due to Autobot aggression. No, we're going to save that for the field. And if you so desperately want to prove me wrong, we'll schedule an exhibition match, you and your little friend there, Blast Off against me. Two on one." Looking Blast Off dead in the eye, Daniel doesn't skip a beat, showing no fear (shock) and no inclination of backing off. "Primitive? Hardly, we've evolved, from mere single cell organisms so many millennium ago, to where we are now. Small? If you measure significance by size... well go buy a red Ferrari and make up for your own impotence." Daniel turns to give Blast Off his full attention. "Where as you, you've not evolved, you were built, programmed and punted off the assembly line. And as far as you Decepticons go, that's where you've stuck. Simply following your programming like the automatons the Quintessons enslaved so many years ago." Indicating Rodimus and Arcee, Daniel continues, "The Autobots on the other hand, they've moved on. They've adapted to fend off the attacks from your pre-programmed aggression. They've adapted to not just do what their programming told them to, but to go beyond it. To protect others, to value life, and to excel at defending it. To even the sacrifice of their own. While your kind run and hide when they cannot win." His gaze goes back to Airlift, "You were changed by Unicron yes? And yet, even being altered I bet you fell back into the same old pattern your programming told you to. We may live shorter lives. We may very well be more fragile physically. But we push ourselves forward far more than any Decepticon ever has or will. Knock us down, we get back up, stronger and more prepared to kick your ass all the way back to Cybertron sweetheart." Daniel looks to Rodimus, "Two on one Prime?" Looking back at the two Decepticons, Daniel comment, "Well he could probably take you alone, but that's the other thing about us, we don't leave our friends to fight our battles for us. So make it you two, against Prime and me." Arcee is simmered down now. Her guys are making her proud, and...and she's decided she's only going to shoot the Decepticon clowns as part of Olympic competition. That settles that. Rodimus Prime looks down to his friend, "Hey I was trying to make it fair!" He laughs softly, giving a gentle sheepish shrug, "Well, fair-ish. But if you want to have my back, I'll be glad to have you on the field." Marissa Faireborn returns to the dais after a small meeting with the Secretary General. She watches Airlift walk away, and looks up at Rodimus. "Next year, instead of debuting the starfleet, we'll simply conclude the ceremony with footage of that Sweep being outflown by McKinley and Garcia." Airlift simply looks bored during Rodimus and Daniel's tirade, smirking slightly at the conclusion. "While it would amuse me to wet my claws with your energon and whatever flows in your little pet creature," Airlift says, "I am a competitor in these games and would not fail my Emperor in order to satisfy my personal amusements.. If Emperor Galvatron deems it appropriate though, I will take the field with whatever allies he commands, against you and whoever you choose to bring along." His glance flickers towards Marissa, "your intelligence is obviously outdated, human," before back to Rodimus. "Do enjoy your time with your little creature Prime..I'm glad that you both enjoy fishing, he'll make excellent bait in a few years when he's no use to run around yapping for you." Speeches concluded, the pounding of marching band drums kick up as marching bands begin parading through the streets, featuring formations of soldiers from across the planet. Marissa Faireborn snorts. "Not outdated, Airlift. Just not impressed in the slightest. Have a safe flight home." Blast Off watches Rodimus try to get all up in Airlift's face, but the Reaver handles it well... and continues to make good points. His own points were good, as well, however. In fact, they seem to have /so/ good that no one could even think of a retort. Well, heh. Naturally. But Rodimus does eventually bring him into his discussion... but calling him *little*? Hey, he's just a little *short*, that's all! The Combaticon glares up at the Autobot leader. "...ANY time." But then Daniel *does* show some struts and actually responds after all! Blast Off turns to look down imperiously at the human. The comment on Ferrari gets a confused blink... the shuttle doesn't really pay attention to Earth cars or other "ground-pounders"... he'll have to look that up later. But he does scoff at the remark. "I am VERY well assured of my own prominence... I have no need for "compensation". And you have NO IDEA how I came to be, or what has made me who I am today. It FAR exceeds your limited processing capability. But I CHOOSE my own destiny. I pursue the things in life that I wish to pursue, and I destroy my enemies by choice, NOT by command. And Combaticons... even Decepticons have far more depth and logic than you could ever wrap your processor around. I'll bet you didn't even know we still create cultured things? Sort of... well, slightly like your own operas, but FAR more sophisticated? Not to mention the great technological achievements. We even protect Cybertron from hostile aliens... while Autofools either run and hide... or try and "make friends" with them. Then find too late how foolish that was." He leans down to look more directly at Daniel. "The Autofools are also *just following programming*... they were mere servants... they served one master a long time ago... and now it appears they wish to serve YOU, even if it is subconsciously. A Decepticon would not degrade themselves so." Eddie Garcia glumly finishes his Future Pepsi as the parade marches by, and looks back up at Crusade. "That Prime has a way with words." Crusade nods. His optics are bright, almost sparkling with admiration. "It must take a lot of confidence to stand up in front of so many people and give a speech." Blast Off seems to have gotten the last word... as he often does. He straightens up, dusts off non-existant dust from a heat shield, and proceeds to head out. And he does indeed intend to pull out some music, *real* music, and enjoy some Kaon opera to help make up for that crass comercialism he just had to endure..... Marissa Faireborn watches Airlift walk away, and looks up at Rodimus. "Well, as much as I wish things could have ended in the Lyonesse melting Airlift and the Combaticon with a photon torpedo..." She pauses, watching the parade go by the dais. "I appreciate your sentiment on stage, Rodimus." Rodimus Prime nods in response to Marissa, "I just try to speak the truth...and while it would've been amusing...well I'm sure the time'll come soon enough when the Lyonesse will get that chance." He starts to turn to head out, Parades weren't really his thing and with Daniel around...well, who can blame him for being distracted, "By your leave, Commander." Only then does he head out...